One more round of chess with the quick study…
Every road in life takes its own twists…
Six years back on this day, I had managed to get my dad to visit his birthplace that he had left at the age of two and a half (when he lost his dad). There was a poignant moment when he sat down and tried to remember the day he saw them carrying his dad’s body down the road from his house. You can read the whole story here.
In any case I had ended the story with the following lines…
“And then it hit me again like a ton of bricks. This will be far more personal to me some day. There will be the long road for him too. And I will have no ability to hold back my emotions. I know that for sure, because I can feel that lump in my throat even as I write this story out…”
Re-reading it today, I suddenly realized that I had never prepared myself for my mom to go first. The last roads in your life can throw some unthinkable twists…

From the bartender’s corner – Holly’s Day
If you like cinnamon, you might like this. First, muddle a small cinnamon stick (they are very strong in aroma, an inch is more than enough) in your mixing glass. Pour half an ounce of fresh lime juice and three fourths of an ounce of honey syrup of honey liqueur (like Barenajager) and muddle it a little more. Pour ice and two ounces of rum and shake it. Pour into a coupe and top it off with champagne. Gently stir it and serve.

New arrival from China – Yellow Dragon Pen
She is closing in…
When I played her last, I had predicted she would need another two or three games before she beats me. Today’s game went on for a full hour. She had cornered me a couple of times bad. Eventually sneaked out of the situation and prevailed with the strength of an extra pawn…

From the bartender’s corner – Spicy Mango cocktail
I loved the end result. I do not think I had seen this recipe before. Got this from The Spruce Eats.
First, muddle a jalapeno in a mixing glass. Add ice, two ounces of mango juice (I have a nice one from the local Indian store0, two ounces of vodka (I used Tito’s), a spoon of Agave Nectar, a spoon of lime juice and a couple of dashes of orange bitters. Shake it well and pour it in a martini glass.
The drink has a kick and is very flavorful.

Short ride today
It was only 48 degrees (9 Centigrade) and windy but I had not taken the bike out in a few days. Felt compelled to do so. Rode around Alpharetta and then landed up in Valor coffee. The coffee was great but was a little too crowded. Had to keep my mask on all the time while reading a book and having coffee.

A little over 5 miles in Fowler Park
My mom, a “Pilot” pen and a guy somewhere in China
This pen has a long history with my mom. It was the source of the fountain of all my fascination towards fountain pens. Way back when, mom had taken up a job as a teacher to supplement our family income. Back then, when you joined as a teacher, you went thru something akin to a probationary period – you were called a “casual” teacher. After that you became a “permanent” teacher.
It was 1972. I was six years old. One fine day, I came back from my kinder garten school (Carmel Convent School – which was a girls’ school but that is a story for another day) and noticed some general elevation of mood in the house. Dad and mom were extra happy and mom was cooking special food in the oven. (When I say oven, I mean an old style, coal burning, mobile oven).
I did not know what “casual” or “permanent” meant. But I was plenty happy with the special fritters being made at home. Perhaps wondering when would mom become “permanent” again!
But the crowning glory was the next day. It was a Saturday. I remember because I did not have school but mom did. (She had half day school on Saturdays). She used to carry a small black handbag with her. Not sure why we called it “vanity bag” then.
In any case, she came back home and showed dad something from her “vanity” bag. It was a shining pen. Jet black lacquer body with golden cap. (I was silly enough to jump to the conclusion that it was made of gold). Apparently, mom’s colleagues had gifted her with that pen upon becoming “permanent” to welcome her to their fold.
That was a very special pen for her. She used to guard it like a hawk. Initially, she even kept it in the locker of our almirah (safe). Much later in life, I had seen her bring it out for regular day to day use.
In any case, what fascinated me about that pen was the nib. It is called a hooded nib. Of course, I did not know all of this at that time – but this is something Parker had come up with to slow down the evaporation thru the breathing hole and the slit of the nib. To me, at that time, it looked like no other fountain pen nib I had seen and I was completely taken in by that.
Dad declared that it was a Pilot pen and very expensive. (I suspect that is why it sat in the locker for so long). I am not entirely sure why this pen was called a Pilot pen those days in India. If you are familiar with fountain pens, you will recognize it as a Parker 51.
Much later in life, I had tried to get a pen like mom had. Three years back (three years and one week today), I had found myself in a small fountain pen shop in Kolkata (near Maidan Metro) station and managed to get myself one. It had a classic 1946 nib!!
After my mom’s death, I amped up the search for a pen just like hers. (the one from Kolkata was of different color). After some extensive search up and down the world, located a guy in China who had some vintage Parker pens. A few weeks of patient wait later, it is here!!! Identical copy of what my mom had!!!
My mom’s favorite ink color was blue (she used Sulekha brand). I think I will stick to that color for this pen.
Ah! Those indelible marks moms leave upon you!!! You might even call them “permanent” !!!




